And I'm Weaving

The act of weaving itself is visually unremarkable in still photos, and repetitive, so this is going to be quicker than you might imagine. Apologies for the dark pics, too; I will discuss this in a later post, not about the pics, but pros and cons about this particular project.

On a foot loom I press the pedal which will raise selected shafts while leaving the other shafts down. On a hand loom I lift levers by hand to do the same. Then I "throw" the shuttle between the lifted and as-are sets of warp threads, e.i. the shed. (Some shuttles you can't throw so you gingerly pass from one hand to the other.) With this project I'm using an end-feel shuttle, which I usually use sideways. Can you see the black weft thread coming out near the right end of the shuttle? 

There it is, the black weft thread left after the shuttle has existed left from the shed.  

I bring forward the reed and push the weft thread in position. In this project this weft will come slightly more forward, leaving, ideally, the same gap as between previous wefts in the patterned, (rather than the plain woven,) portion.

That's it. Sample weave or weaving proper, I repeat this as many times as required by the length of the piece and size of the weft yarn more or less.

I began the warp post with a non-weaver reader in mind without intending to show the entire weaving process. After I weave I might twist fringes and "wash". Unless I have new ideas or good pics, this is the last of the process series.

My big loom has a weird/unique setup because it was a locally made/reconfigured computer-controlled dobby. If you're curious, I have recorded it before, so knock yourself out. :-D 

I'm Dressing the Loom - The Slow Part

The next step of dressing the loom is slower but I find it meditative, and if it weren't for the physical discomfort, could do it for long stretches. Before I can get into it, however, a brief explanation of how my loom works may be necessary, requiring more weavers' jargon. Sorry. 

I said, "b) the vertical warp yarns are either up or down, and weaving is the simple act of sandwiching the horizontal weft yarns between warp yarns." How do I make some warp ends go up to create the gap, called the "shed", in which to trap the weft?

I have white polyester heddles on this loom, old heddles were made of strings or metal, but they all have "eyes" in the middle to thread one warp end through. Each heddle is attached to a shaft, and every heddle on the same shaft go up together, or come down together, as a group. Since selected shaft/s go up, my looms are rising-shed type. Traditionally two-, four-, and eight-shaft looms were mainstream, but increasingly, 16-, 24-, 32-, and 40-shaft monsters have become available to home weavers since the 1990s. That means, depending on the loom, two, four, eight, etc, sets of strings going up or coming down together.

The order in which warp is threaded, (Shaft 1, then 2, then 3, for e.g,) and which shafts are lifted in a particular shed decide the line/shape of a design, in the first instance. So greater number of shafts, the more complex designs can be woven.

A project requires as many heddles as there are warp ends, or pairs in this case, because every end has got to go up at one time or another, lest it will stay under every weft right the way through the cloth without interlacement, and then that warp end will come away from the cloth after the cloth is taken off the loom. Many looms have many heddles, and they can be removed from one shaft and transferred to another easily if the design requires, as long as there are enough.

Every warp end must be threaded through a heddle eye, so we call this task "threading". Some project are quick to thread, depending on the complexity of the design and number/size/characteristics of warp yarn. This one is has been smooth sailing.

This is my view. (Not my laundry, silly.) I sit on a tiny canvas camping/fishing foldy seat between the heddles/shafts to my left and the warp and back beams to my right.

The heddles are stretched between one of the 16 shafts, Shaft 16 being closest to me at the "back" when I'm at seated at the bench weaving. Below is the threading portion of the draft, (and on this rare occasion, with colors,) I mark off as I thread. Because I thread from the back, I read the draft upside down, but in most if not all drafts I weave, if I mistake the top from the bottom, this is easily rectifiable when I weave.  

Warp ends/pairs are to my right slightly above my head, waiting to be threaded; it's the last 1 or 2 meters you saw danging in the last pic in the last post. Close up you can see the cross, green arrow,  (i.e. the order in which the warp ends/pairs went on the warping board,) between the lease sticks. Seen from the front of the loom I start threading from the left side on this loom, (because the right opening is easier for my unsmall self to get in and out of,) the far left warp end/pair, pink arrow, is the next to be threaded. 

If for some reason I lost this cross, although the warp is already wound on the warp beam, I still have the second cross I made at the top end of the warping board as consolation.

I take the next end/pair, and thread it through the eye of the next heddle in the appointed shaft. One of the worst thing about aging is eyesight; I am severely near-sighted and switching short- and mid-distance is not happening. A lot of weaving, particularly theading, is done by feel. I can see which shaft I'm choosing, and I actually make surprising few threading mistakes, but I sometimes thread not in the eye but the slots above or below them in these modern heddles.   

This is one step that may be unusual. Because my sitting/threading position is uncomfortable, I come out every once in a while to the front of the loom and "sley", or pull a set number of warp ends/pairs through the slots in a reed, a tool that regulates how close warp ends to sit to each other. I find not only is this better for the body, but I have also been able to spot threading mistakes by sleying incrementally.

In the last post I wrote I wanted 20 ends/pairs per inch, but while threading I changed my mind so I sleyed at 18 pairs. This reed has six slots, "dents", to every inch, so I am pulling three ends/pairs into each slot in the order I threaded, starting at the left end of the cloth. I don't know if I should call this 18 "end"-per-inch, ("EPI") or more accurately 36EPI, but higher the number, the more warp ends are used in every inch. And if you thought the weaving width on the reed is going to be ever so slightly wider than in the raddle, well done, pat yourself on the back and treat yourself to a small piece of sometimes-only treat. (And after sampling, I even re-sleyed to 24 pairs/48 EPI!)

After ever warp end/pair is threaded and sleyed, I pull and tug on each carefully, and make a knot knotting together 18 pairs, i.e. one inch in the reed, and lash it on to the front/cloth beam, and adjust the tension. I want even, universal tension, and for this, feeling the warp with the back of my hands with my eyes closed works best.

Now I'm ready to do another of my favorite parts: sample weaving.

Here are some bits I excluded to keep my explanation "simple".

*Some techniques require the weaver to pry open a gap in which to insert the weft, (think prototypical tapestry looms.) On a vertical loom the warps are not up/down but front/back. And while some techniques don't insert one long weft but only portions of it to achieve a different effect, (think cut pile, for e.g.) But the fact remains the weft yarns are sandwiched between and held by the two sets of warp in any shed.  

* There are looms with more basic heddles, e.g. a long string wound around warp ends and a stick alternately, (I've not tried them,) but the theory is the same.

* Rigid heddle looms are two-shaft looms. At the other end of the spectrum, Jacquard looms allow manipulation of every single heddle separately, which is why they can weave oh-so-dreamy pictures. They are the ones to end all shaft-envy. Then there are draw looms, which I understand to be between a Jacquard and a shaft loom, but I've never seen either kind close up to tell you any more.

* All of my looms are rising-shed looms, i.e. the selected shafts are raised while others remain horizontal, to create a shed. There are also sinking-shed looms, as well as countermarche looms where selected sheds are raised while others sink, creating lovely big sheds which makes weaving easier. 

If you are serious about knowing more about types of looms, how they work, etc, there are far better teacher-weavers-explainers online and in books than I. If interested, leave a comment and I'll try to find some, or better yet, look it up yourself, or if you're lucky enough to have either, ask your local weaving guild/group or weaving supply shop.

I'm Dressing the Loom - The Fast Part

My new warp, in two parts, 10 meters each, folded and hung until I'm ready to dress the loom.

 

Some weavers make chains, but a few ends always snag which can be problematic later, so lately I don't make chains with skinny yarns but fold and dangle. (As you can see, I like making warps and, gee, I have a few I haven't woven.) 

Now that I have this warp, I want to put it on the loom so I can weave it. Dressing a loom means affixing the warp on to the loom, winding the warp on the warp beam at the back of the loom so I can pull, or "advance" the warp threads forward as I weave.

There are as many ways to dress a loom as there are weavers, dependent on how you learned, the loom, position/direction of various equipment and the space available, the weaver's body size, and preferences. Even though I have one basic method, I modify it to suit the loom/space/project, but the basics stay the same. The most crucial thing is for every warp end/pair to go on the warp beam under the same tension. Or, not loose one here and tight one over there. If I spread out the warp to roughly the width of the cloth, and place the very first end/pair I placed on the warping board at far left or far right of the cloth, the second next to it, the third next to that, etc., there is a better chance the warp will yield uniform/even tension without tangling or breaking. 

This is the back of my loom where there is very little space. Remember the cross I made while making the warp? It preserves the order in which the ends went on the warping board, and here I'm using two dowels B we call lease sticks, (they can become something-else sticks another time,) to keep that order. Warp ends/pairs goes either above the top B and under bottom B or the other way around, alternately, and they cross near b. Stick A assists all warp ends/pairs travelling from the front of the loom to enter the cross in the same angle.

I put a rod D, (or sometimes a slat depending on the project/fiber,) through the loop at the end of warp and attach it to a slat attached to the warp beam. The warp is uncut at this point, so it's still one, (or in this case, four,) long pieces of yarn.

I now spread the ends roughly in the width of the cloth on a tool called raddle C. A raddle has spaces in one inch increments, (I use inches for width and metric for length in weaving,) and I'm weaving this project with 20 pairs of ends per inch, so I count 20 ends/pairs for each slot. The original position for the raddle was at the top of the loom F, but it was too high even for the previous owner of the loom so she attached parts so the raddle can rest at the back of the loom above the warp beam. Otherwise I tend to prefer strings, yarns and other more temporary setup so I can accommodate different fibers, thicknesses, width of the projects, etc. It could also mean I change my mind often and have a fear of committing. :-D

This is the view from the front of the loom. I pull the warp as far back as I can, and put some weight. I used to like pulling the warp over my cut pile carpet, but for skinnier or delicate yarns, I prefer to pull it over smoother surface. This time I'm using a thin foamy sheet that must have come as a packing material because I'd love to have more of this but haven't been able to find it.

To my right is the warping mill with the red Syrie warp still sitting on it. To the left, (and I'm surprised it didn't show up in this photo,) is the back of my four-shaft loom. I've been "thinking out loud" different configurations/storage schemes since I've come home from Japan and haven't been able to come up with a solution, but no matter what I leave a gap here so I can always put a warp on the big loom.

I unlock the brake at the side, and I wind the warp beam backwards, placing slats or thin flat sheets of different material to separate the layers. As seen above, I'm using corrugated card board E this time. I keep my eyes around the cross b and environs where it's easiest for yarns to tangle and break.

I leave a meter or two hanging at the back so I can work on the next phase - the more time-consuming part of dressing the loom.

I'm Making a Warp

I posted on Facebook about making a warp, one of my favorite activities weaving or otherwise a former colleague asked me what a warp is, so I promised her some pics.

So often I tell non-weavers a) most of "weaving" is prepping the loom, and b) the vertical warp yarns are either up or down, and weaving is the simple act of sandwiching the horizontal weft yarns between warp yarns.

I thought I'd record how I make a warp, and later how a loom works, to show how time-consuming the prepping phase is, and because this is where the physical process of weaving starts, and also, because of the unique situation with my house, it's the one process that suffered no big change over the years so I don't have to think too much to write abut it. :-D   

A warp is a collective name for a set of yarns, individually called warp "ends", measured to a specific length to become the vertical set of yarns attached to the loom while weaving. Before I can make a warp, I need to plan a project to know the specs of the warp. Sometimes I start by designing a project, which includes the overall look of the piece; approximate finished size, (a piece of weaving morphs several times from when it's on the loom under tension, off the loom and relaxed, and especially in case of wool, after the very first wash;) texture, (sometimes called "hand";) and a gazillion other things. Then I select the yarns to best realize the plan. Other times I select the yarns I want to work with based on the fiber content, size, and colors and amounts I have, then plan. Usually these decisions are made together organically.

Only after I have a plan, I know which fiber/size/color yarns goes into the warp, (and a fairly good idea of what yarns to audition for the wefts;) how many ends are required to achieve the finished width; and the length of the warp to accommodate not only the project but a rather large amount of loom waste, portions of warp necessary to weave the project but won't become part of the finished piece.

This is part of the plan, called a "draft", for the warp I'm making this week. I'm not sure if I want the navy border at the sides, but I make that separately so it doesn't matter just now. The colors in real life is darker as I'm paring each of the Marine, Sky and Teal yarns with a Navy, treating each pair as one warp end. These are four colors of the same skinny New Zealand merino wool.
(EDIT: I swapped the above picture. I don't know what I was thinking but the draft was three times the width of the planned project.)

This is more like it. I'm going to make the final piece, an adult-size couch blanket, by weaving three panels and stitching them together side by side; each panel's warp color distribution looks like this. Now I can count the number of warp pairs I need; it's a little hard to see, but from the right, it's 8 pairs of Marine+Navy, 13 pairs of Sky+Navy, 29 pairs of Teal+Navy and so on. I need to wind 428 pairs, or 856 ends, of yarn.

Lengthwise, although I probably need between 7 and 8 meters of warp, I love to weave samples and I don't want to run out of warp while weaving the project, so I'm going for the maximum length I can on a tool called a warping board, a little over 10 meters. With leftover warp, I'll probably get a shawl, but if not, I usually weave warp-end fabrics in the hope that some day I will actually turn them into something usable. (I have a rather large stash of these warp-end fabrics, though.)  

Finally I can make the warp; like many things in weaving, the actual physical work is simple and repetitive. Key here is to pull the yarn off the cones and wind it around the pegs under the same tension for every single end/pair, and count accurately. From the top left to the bottom left-of-center makes one warp end; when I turn round and reach top left again, that's the second warp end. Wind, wind, wind... Can you tell, at this point, it's just a pair of long pieces of merino going around the wooden pegs? If I'm using only one color, an entire warp can consist of one long piece of yarn.

When making multi-colored warps, I cut and tie different colors and keep going, but depending on how I've combined colors, sometimes I make separate warps for each color, then blend them when they go on the loom. 

Some of us use contrasting color yarns, (sometimes loom waste from previous projects,) as counters. There is also the small matter of making crosses, which are super important when we put the warp on the loom, but for now, I'll just show you one; I make them at the start and the end, or the top and the the bottom of the warping board.

I mentioned the unique situation of my house. Yarns come off cones easily when pulled up rather than sideways. There are gadgets to help with this, but conveniently I have a wee landing near a small wall-mounted heater in the hallway, which together works treat. (This heater is very old and and inefficient and we once tried to replace it until I remembered the morning it was supposed to come out that I needed this more than a new, efficient, undinged heater 10cm taller. Also, the heater is in front of the loo, a fact I don't like to advertise, but if needed, I have one immediately behind me.) The cones sit on the landing, yarns are pulled straight up, I stand in front of the board/heater/(loo) so the yarns travel a good distance upward.

I used to listen to music on the boombox, but these days it's more often podcasts, audiobooks or even videos on the laptop, but you can see I have everything I need, including CDs, an ice cream container of loose strings, and tall cup of milky chai.

The rest is just repeating, not even rinsing. The pegs on the warping board may fill up and I may need to split one warp into two "chains" but otherwise, I keep winding and counting. I like to make a warp within the same day so the tension remains the same, but light is the most important element and as I get older I started to have difficulties seeing, (i.e. counting accurately,) under artificial light. If it is a big warp, say 1600 ends, I have to do this over a couple of days because, again, I start to make counting mistakes.

OK, I must get back to winding. More in the life of a warp to come, though.

How I Make a Shawl - Part 7: Fringing, Embellishing, Wet Finishing, Pressing and Drying

After the shawl rested overnight (or longer), I needed to fringe. This can be an art in itself, twisting, braiding, and weaving the fringes like lattice work, but there were enough interest in the colors and textures in these two, so I made straight forward fringes. The fringes took about 2 hours per shawl, with frequent rests and counting/recounting.

Sometimes I like to embellish the selvedge/s or the fringes with tiny glass beads, which makes parts of the shawls sparkle in the night, but again, I didn't want to make these two pieces too busy, so I didn't embellish them.

Then came the last but very exciting part of "weaving": wet finishing is mostly washing, but in case of wool, it also involves controlled felting, so here I did to wool what your mother probably told you never to do to your brand new sweater.

This is our old bathtub which we had fitted into a cradle. I have the hot water tap in the middle of the garage, just next to the lawn mower, and the cold water and drain at the end.

The very first time a shawl is placed in hot soapy water, it is left alone for about 15 minutes so it can absorb the water at its own speed, and the fiber can open up.

I washed them in hot soapy water roughly, then plunged them into cold water, and repeated the process. I must watch the transformation of the cloth carefully while I wet finish, but normally, with the combination of the yarns I use, the transformation takes place in the second hot wash, and I rinse the cloth carefully in the last cold wash. The first piece on this warp needed another extra hot wash, but the second was, as predicted, a two-cycle finish. I wash every single piece individually for this reason.

The photo above is during the most exciting second hot wash, and if you click to enlarge, you can see how the wiry/netty warp and weft yarns have integrated to become a piece of cloth.

After I squeezed as much water as I could, I spun the shawls in medium speed in my washing machine for a while, repositioned them, and then spun in high speed.

Finally the pieces were steam-pressed over and over while still damp, and laid flat on the living room floor to dry overnight. Wet finishing and pressing took about an hour for each piece.

After the pieces were completely dry, I cut off the frizzy ends below the knot of each fringe, and that is the very last job, which took about 15 minutes for each shawl.